


Gestures

by CaptainDeryn



Series: Deryn's Fictober 2020--Through the Pages [3]
Category: The Lord of the Rings Online
Genre: F/M, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Post-War of the Ring, implied loss of parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:15:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26824243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainDeryn/pseuds/CaptainDeryn
Summary: The two year anniversary of Wulfwryn's death and the one year anniversary of Raenor's pass into Valinor leaves Faewryn alone and grieving. Eldarion, however, makes time to offer comfort and a gesture of remembrance for the War of the Ring heroes.
Relationships: Eldarion (Tolkien)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Deryn's Fictober 2020--Through the Pages [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952452
Kudos: 4





	Gestures

**Author's Note:**

> Please note the TWs in the tags.

Day 3: “you did this?”

One day a year always passed Faewryn in a fog. She woke in the morning with a pit in her stomach, the empty house around her urging her to linger beneath her covers to deter the start of her morning. Thoughts did not register much even as the rising sun dusted off the sleepy cobwebs in her mind. 

Two years now had ticked by was the only thing that didn’t slip from her thoughts like water between fingers.  _ Two years _ . 

It should have passed by now. She thought the same thing last year. For most days, it had faded to a dull ache reserved for only the quietest of moments when the demons in her mind stirred from slumber and reared their ugly heads. 

The demons had stirred two days ago. The first day was a grim reminder of when the guards had stormed the gates after what was meant to be a routine patrol. A day stained with bright blood and buckled armor. The second was muffled, only snippets making it through the haze that clung to it. Hazy memories of pallor and the light of her father’s healing hands. 

She didn’t know what day was worse. Or if today somehow only doubled the ache in her heart. 

Today was smothered in last breaths, lapping water, and creaking ships. 

As with the years previous, people made their rounds to knock on her door and offer their sincere condolences. Their numbers dwindled this year and their words came less sincere. A few familiar, kind souls, still handed her warm covered dishes with homely aromas. 

They were simply the ones closest to her mother, who still felt the pain alongside Faewryn. A few letters with bleeding ink sat open on her table, postmarked form Ithilien. 

Nothing remained in Rivendell to hear condolences from. 

Just as the sun had risen, within a blink it was setting and Faewryn stood alone in the sanctuary of the Citadel. In her hands she cupped a lit candle, the small flame flickering in the rising evening breeze. 

Lining the wall in front of her were a meager few candles. Some were melted down to wax in their little cups, others went out completely. There were more candles here than people who had spoken to her. 

Many people of Gondor remembered their heroes from the War of the Ring. Not many remembered their grieving daughter, sole inherent to a legacy far too grand for one set of shoulders. 

“Faewryn?” The voice muddled its way through the fog of her brain, familiar enough that she knew she should react to her. Turning her head to look was worse than trying to swim through current roughened water. 

Hands cupped hers about the same time the connection that it was Eldarion standing in front of hers. In the same instant she realized the candle was gone from her hands and that it was falling from Eldarion’s hands instead. It splattered on the ground in a pile of soupy wax and she looked at Eldarion with wide eyes. 

He shook his hands up and down with a muffled curse before reaching out for hers. When their fingers brushed a dart of pain cleared the haze around Faewryn and she let out a small gasp. 

Small pink marks mapped across her hands and she stared at them curiously, turning her hands this way and that. 

“When did you get here?” she found fit to ask. 

“Father released me from the council early.” Eldarion did not reach for her again, but she still felt him near. “He wanted me to relight my mother and his candle, and I wanted to light my own.” 

Faewryn frowned, looking askance at the candles. Indeed, one partway melted candle, black as night like Gondor’s flag, sat next to a newly lit one. 

“I would’ve known you were here.” she said, though that was proving unlikely. 

Eldarion echoed the sentiment, “I thought you knew I was here. But when I looked over you were just staring over the horizon with hot wax dripping down your hands.” 

She ran her fingers over her left hand with a wince. 

“I thought I would’ve noticed.” she murmured. 

“This has always been a rough day for you.” Eldarion rested his hand gently between her shoulders and though he applied no pressure, nor implied pressure. Faewryn drifted to lean against his side. He was warm, comforting. He did not clear her mind entirely but at the least he was a light in the thick grey fog. 

His arm went around her and he pressed a light kiss to the top of her head. 

“If I asked to show you something, would you be willing?” 

Confused, she looked up at him, “Why would I not be?” 

“I don’t know, perhaps you are tired or would not want to walk all the way down to the Workers’ Circle with me.” 

The thought of putting one foot in front of the other that many times was already exhausting. But saying no meant returning to her empty house or staying here with only candles for company. She had no doubt that if Eldarion was not preoccupied with something then the council would snatch him back and sit him down once again. 

“I do like the idea of being with you.” she said, attempting for humor and falling far from it. “Though you may need to carry me there.” 

She gasped, grappling for purchase on his velvety tunic, when suddenly she was swept off of her feet. He smiled at her, the sort of smile that went all the way into his eyes and lit them up bright like stars, “I’ll do what I must.” 

“I did not mean  _ now _ .” Enough of a laugh made it into Faewryn’s tone that it felt like some great, dark weight released from her chest, allowing her to breathe slightly easier. 

With ceremony, Eldarion placed her back on the cobblestones and instead held out an arm to her. She took it and together they began the descent down the circles of Minas Tirith. 

When they reached the Workers’ Circle, all the way by the gates leading into Pelennor Fields, a certain anticipatory skip entered Eldarion’s step. 

“May I cover your eyes?” he asked her. “I want this to be a surprise.” 

Nothing raised suspicion more than that, but Faewryn gave a tentative nod. As the darkness of his hands descended over her eyes she asked, “What could you possibly be showing me?” 

“If I told you then it wouldn’t be a surprise, now would it?” Eldarion chided gently and guided her forward. She did not know how long they walked for, it couldn’t have been much further than the gates as she could still hear the last of the evening bustle. 

Then they stopped, Eldarion’s hands a slight pressure across her face until he lifted them. 

Faewryn was staring at the base of a statue, a bronze plaque. Her eyes read the words thrive over, not registering them: 

_ Royal Guard Captain Wulfwryn and song-spinner Raenor _

_ Heroes in the War for the Ring _

_ Remembered with reverence and honor _

She followed the statue up and stared into the eyes of stone replicas of her parents. Raenor, reaching out to the people with a healer’s hand and a lute carved on his back. And Wulfwryn, standing beside him with all the graceful poise and sturdiness of a well respected leader. 

Faewryn’s legs went out from beneath her and she sank to the ground, a hand crawling up to cover her mouth. She felt more than saw Eldarion kneel down beside her, his hands steady on her shoulders. Hot tears were falling out of her eyes faster than she could wipe them away, and so she did not bother to try. 

“What is this?” she asked in a trembling voice. 

“An idea I’ve had in the works for months.” Eldarion said, “Well, we’d been discussing it since your mother...well, the idea solidified when Raenor...we wanted to honor them.” 

“You did this?” Her voice trembled until the words themselves seemed to shake beyond recognition. 

As she dissolved into quiet sobs, one of Eldarion’s arms slid around the waist, the other around her shoulders and he buried his face in the back of her neck, cradling her in comfort, “I did. I commissioned it a few months back. I didn’t want to tell you until I knew it would be perfect.” 

The only thing that Faewryn could get out was a ‘thank you’ lost somewhere in the sniffles and wracking breaths she heaved. 

Eldarion just held her closer and told her not to thank him at all. 


End file.
